Self Inflicted Stupidity
by desibookworm
Summary: Some of my boy problems are self-inflicted and some of my boy problems are because boys are stupid.
1. Chapter 1

_Some of my boy problems are self-inflicted and some of my boy problems are because boys are stupid._

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Part I: Boys are Stupid.

Sometimes Rose thought she did this to herself. There she was, dressed to the nines, with the dress, the heels, the jewelry and the makeup, and her date was _absent._ She showed up to Le Petit Maison at precisely half-seven, silently giving thanks to Sleekeazy's for temporarily taming her unruly hair, only to find that not only had her date blown her off, but that she had done all of this for nothing. Even the waiters were looking at her with pity.

She scowled and headed to the Leaky Cauldron. She was acutely aware that she was overdressed for the locale, but she needed a drink and to nurse her wounded pride in solitude. She sat at the corner of the bar, shielding her eyes from curious passersby, ordering herself a Firewhiskey

"I told you that Decker bloke was a wanker," a voice said from behind her. Scorpius Malfoy was grinning at her with a smile that she found both wildly inappropriate and oddly reassuring. She wanted to break his nose and cry at the same time. He placed the Firewhiskey down in front of her.

She scowled as she took a sip. It burned its way down her throat. "How did you -?"

"Al."

"Al talks too much," she said bad-temperedly.

Scorpius sat down on the bar stool next to her. "Maybe. But you don't talk at all so it evens out. So, what happened?"

"Let it go, Malfoy," she said wearily, ordering another round. She was already tired of talking about this and oh look it was only half eight. It was going to be a long night, she could already tell. She resisted the urge to rub her eyes; the silver eyeliner she'd bought from Madam Malkins was a designer brand that made her cerulean eyes pop and cost her a month's pay.

"Let me guess, he forgot his wallet and made you pay," he said cheerfully, putting her second round in front of her.

Rose scowled again. "That would require him to show up," she muttered resentfully.

"He blew you off?" Scorpius asked incredulously. He eyed her appraisingly, and knew a man had to be blind or gay not to like what he saw. "He's stupid as well as a wanker. I underestimated him."

"You don't have to rub it in, Malfoy," she said, in that same resentful tone. "I should have known it was too good to be true."

"I'm not rubbing it in," he said sincerely. "I genuinely think he's stupid. You want some food to go with that Firewhiskey?"

"I'm not hungry," she mumbled miserably.

"Never thought I'd see the day when Rose Weasley would turn down free food."

"Just go away, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood," she snapped.

He held his hands up in a sort of peace offering and waved a plate of chips over with his wand. "It's on the house, Weasley."

"It's not your house," she pointed out.

"Hannah can take it out of my pay."

Rose gave him a grateful smile and he winked before he went back to work. She watched him out of the corner of her eye thoughtfully. Scorpius Malfoy had always been at the edge of her orbit.

Both he and Albus had pleasantly surprised all of them when he was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and she could only imagine Draco Malfoy's disbelief. Rose's father, on the other hand, had been less than thrilled when his only daughter and the apple of his eye had been Sorted into Slytherin. He knew she was ambitious, even at a young age, but old prejudices died hard and Ronald Weasley had to come to terms with the fact that his offspring was a textbook Slytherin. As of the present moment, she was the only person from the Weasley-Potter clan that was in Slytherin, and she had to hide how alone it made her feel. She made her own friends though. They were unconventional, but loyal.

But Albus, the frustrating optimist that he was, constantly tried to foist Scorpius on her. It took a long time for Rose to get over the feeling that Scorpius had replaced her in Albus's affections, and the feeling was only exacerbated by his constant attempts to make them get along. Rose wished he would just give it up. They got on like oil and water, and the fact that her entire family adored him only drove the wedge deeper. She didn't care that he was a Malfoy, but she was annoyed by the fact that he was so goddamn cheerful all the time and no matter what wrong he did, girls loved him. She knew what he wanted from them, i.e., mental stimulation, sexual gratification. And she knew what made him run from them: commitment.

He had made passes at her over the years, but she had chalked it up mostly to too much alcohol and a very misguided Hufflepuff attempt at cheering her up when she was at her lowest points. Scorpius spent Christmas Day and New Years' Day with his family but every other day of the holidays at the Burrow with the Weasleys. He'd been there for every holiday argument, both major and minor, every breakup announcement, and every prank. He had been witness to her most humiliating breakups and her less-than-attractive temper. It automatically disqualified him from her ever taking him seriously, because she could not be that vulnerable in front of someone so carefree. She wouldn't allow it.

She thought once she left Hogwarts, that dating would be easier. That guys would see more than just her name, more than just her family, more than just the fact that she was the black sheep. But no…it only seemed to have gotten worse.

She honestly didn't think what she asked for from men was too much. For them to have their own ambition, for them to be interesting, for them to have chemistry was minimalist in her mind. Her expectations of her dates were just as simple: pay attention, ask questions, be as interested as they were interesting, and have a sense of humor. Compared to the laundry list Victoire and Lily carried around for men to adhere to every time they went on a date, Rose thought the men were getting off rather easy. But no. All her ex-boyfriends thought her standards were too high or unreachable and she was honestly starting to believe it was better to be alone.

Tonight was a perfect example. Bradley Decker was a perfectly respectable Ministry bloke, who she enough chemistry with to consider giving him a fair shot. He asked her out to dinner, picked the restaurant, and they made plans to meet today at half-seven. She was waxed, dressed, made up, and strapped into shoes that really should have qualified for medieval torture. She looked _good_. And, for some unexplained reason, he was the fifth bloke in as many weeks to disappoint her. And unlike the previous four, he didn't even _bother_ to show up. No owl, no Floo, nothing.

Sexual frustration was what kept her saying yes to these guys who were very plainly beneath her. Rose knew she was trying to justify it to herself, but the honest truth was, she was tired of sleeping alone. She wanted to be touched and manhandled and _satisfied._ Right now, she was frustrated and bored. She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger absentmindedly as she eyed Scorpius in his uniform of a white oxford, charcoal grey trousers and a slate grey waistcoat that brought out his grey eyes. While in Hogwarts, he sported long luxurious locks of platinum blonde hair, but now in adulthood, he looked equally as alluring with his hair cut short and clean.

"That's a sign of sexual frustration," Scorpius said, from seemingly far away.

"What?" Rose asked distractedly. She was on her third Firewhiskey and she wasn't quite sure she had heard him right.

He reached over and freed her curl from her finger. "Twisting your hair round like that. Sexual frustration."

"What the bloody hell would you know about it?" she growled. He had inadvertently reached a touchy subject with her and she was already metaphorically climbing the walls.

Scorpius's eyebrows rose to his hairline at her vitriolic tone. "Enough to know that your date tonight wouldn't have satisfied you in any way."

Rose scoffed. "So far none of them have," she said dismissively.

"You've been going with the wrong men, Rose."

"Alert the Daily Prophet."

"You're cute when you're sarcastic," Scorpius said, amused.

"If this is you trying for sympathetic, try a different tone."

"Poor, misunderstood Rosie…the boys don't know what you want," Scorpius said softly.

Rose raised an eyebrow at the taunt. "And you do?"

"Of course," he said smoothly. "But you'll have to wait until I'm off shift for me to tell you."

"I'm not a patient person, Malfoy."

Scorpius smiled. "Don't worry. I am. I'll send you over some real food so you'll have something to soak up all that alcohol."

"You gave me chips already."

"Chips isn't a meal, Rose," he chided. "I'll send you a burger."

"No onions." Rose was not a girl who would ever turn down free food. She was Ronald Weasley's daughter after all. She tucked in with all the gusto of a woman scorned out of her dinner.

"I see you also inherited your father's table manners," Scorpius teased gently, setting serviettes down next to her.

"Fuck off," she mumbled around her burger. It was _perfect_ , medium rare meat with mushrooms, lettuce, tomato, and a dash of her favorite hot sauce.

The one thing Rose and Albus could agree on when it came to Scorpius was how attentive he was; he knew all her favorites without having to ever ask. It was that sort of attention to detail that made him McGonagall's top choice to take over the post of Potions master after Slughorn's long-awaited retirement, and George's top consultant for Weasley Wizard Wheezes' new potions formulas. Draco wanted to support him but Scorpius's pride would not allow him to take his father's hard-earned money. George gave him a commission whenever he sought advice on his joke potions but working in Hannah's bar just gave him enough to support himself while he worked through his teaching credential.

Scorpius just laughed at her and pulled one of her curls. "That's no way to talk to the guy who bought you dinner."

Rose already felt a small blush rising, but she blamed the alcohol for it. "Somehow I think you can take it."

"I'll be done in half an hour. Have some chocolate gateau while you wait."

"There's no…" Rose started to say, until Scorpius floated a decadent slice of chocolate gateau. The gleam of hunger in her eyes made Scorpius laugh again as she descended on the gateau.

Despite what the male populace at Hogwarts said, Scorpius had always found Rose easy to manage. Her needs were simple. If she was fed, she was happy. Living in the Hufflepuff common room had the express benefit of living next to the kitchen, and Scorpius took every opportunity to bring her treats in the library. It was easy to make her smile.

Sometimes, when she was studying for a test or lost in a good book, she forgot to eat. She needed constant mental stimulation, whether it was from a man, Quidditch, chess, or just simply a book at the library. The girl was ambitious in her own right, being a prefect, captain of the chess club, and now an Unspeakable at the Department of Mysteries. She was a force to be reckoned with. Being a Weasley had nothing to do with it; Rose Weasley was in a league all on her own.

Not that she realized it. It was not that she was not self-aware but more that she looked for stimulation in all the wrong places. It was no surprise to him that all the men she'd ever dated couldn't measure up: if they couldn't mentally stimulate her, she was instantly bored.

Rose noticed Scorpius still eying her. "You're staring," she said dryly.

"You're pretty when you're happy," Scorpius said unabashedly.

"What gave you the impression that I was happy?" she asked, curiously.

"I'm an observant person," Scorpius supplied helpfully.

"Try again."

"You're fed. Fed Rose is equal to a happy Rose," he said cheerfully, clearing her plate and holding a hand out to her. "Let me walk you home."

After three Firewhiskeys and on tottering heels, Rose was tipsy. It didn't seem like such a terrible idea, she thought, as she slid off the barstool. Scorpius lived in the same building as her, a block away from the pub. She took his hand and tried not to flush again at the warmth as he tucked her hand under his elbow. He was strong and steady as they stepped out into the brisk night. "So, you were going to tell me."

"Hm?" Scorpius asked.

"What I want from the boys that misunderstand me," Rose clarified.

She had to crane her neck to look up at him; even in her five-inch heels, she only reached his shoulder. "You want…stimulation."

There was heat in the final word, and she felt it shivering up her spine. "Do tell."

They were stopped in front of his door now. He slid his hand around her waist, his hand pressing into the small of her back to move her into him. "All the men you date bore you," he stated baldly. He felt her back go up under his hands and he had to backtrack, "You need someone to… _intrigue_ you."

Her breath caught in her throat as his hands touched the bare skin of her back. "And where will I find that? If you say all the men I date bore me."

Scorpius smiled as he tangled one hand in her hair. "Well that's the fun, isn't it? You haven't dated me. Passionate sorts like you need…intrigue."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "You think you're intriguing?"

Scorpius leaned in and whispered, "You're here with me and not Brad Decker." He pulled her hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get her to meet his eyes. "You haven't stopped me. You haven't cursed me. You haven't even complained once tonight."

Rose pulled back to look up at him under her eyelashes, increasing the pressure of his hand on her scalp. "And what if you don't measure up? What if you bore me too?"

Scorpius pulled her back in. "Try me," he challenged. And then, without asking, he hoisted her up and his mouth was on hers. And she _loved_ it.

Her hands immediately went into his hair as his tongue searched out hers, and she felt him fumbling with his wand to click the lock on the door open. He walked her through the doorway, one hand in her hair, the other arm around her back, feeling up the expanse of bare skin and fabric for the zipper. Rose's hands got to work unbuttoning his waistcoat and then the shirt underneath, desperate to find skin. He pushed it off impatiently so that he could get back to work finding Rose's zipper.

She started to laugh under his ministrations and he pulled back to look down at her with narrowed eyes. "It's a tie, Scorpius," she said innocently, with that familiar edge of sardonic teasing. She guided his palm to the knot of fabric at the nape of her neck and he mumbled a curse at how tight the knot was.

"You did this on purpose," he accused her, trying to work the knot free as she kissed down his jawline.

It was so Slytherin of her to laugh at his misfortune. "I didn't think I'd go home with you tonight, Scorp." Her breath caught as he finally succeeded undoing the knot and kissed the exposed skin. Then she felt him working a love bite onto her neck and she knew they had to move soon. Her hands dropped to his waistband to feel for his belt buckle and he tore the rest of her dress off, too impatient to undo the rest properly, and groaning when he realized she wasn't wearing any underwear beneath the dress.

It wasn't the first time she'd been naked in front of a guy, but it was definitely the first time she had felt both protected and desired by the man in front of her. Usually it was one or the other, but not both. It made her feel uncomfortably vulnerable. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she said dryly.

"Not for what I have in mind," he said slyly, reaching out for her again. She stepped back.

"I think you're wearing way too many clothes."

Scorpius opened his arms out wide. "So, take them off me," he said simply.

That hungry gleam came back into Rose's eyes. Without a word she unbuckled his belt, roughly shoving his trousers down his legs and waiting as Scorpius frantically kicked them off his ankles. He reached for her again and soon they were on the floor.

The first time they didn't even make it to the bed. Scorpius took her right there on his living room floor, before they reached the couch, again on the wall of his hallway, and the fourth time at the edge of his bed. She still had her shoes on, and he, his watch. She could feel the cold metal of his watch on her skin, but she didn't care and he was not complaining about the heels of her shoes digging into his back, so she couldn't be bothered to remove them. Each time they moved, Scorpius displayed an impressive amount of strength for a man so lean, carrying her, flipping her over, lifting her up, tossing her down.

Rose wasn't quite sure how long they had been going at it, but she had always been a marathoner when it came to sex and was quite pleased that Scorpius wasn't showing any signs of slowing down. He made sure she came at _least_ three times before his own release. He liked watching her build up and then go over the edge. He liked being the one to do it to her. Her eyes stayed wide, fixed on his, before they went glassy. He was just as attentive in bed as he was out of bed, taking extra care to pleasure every erogenous zone he discovered with his talented fingers and tongue, noting every catch of breath and every sigh.

Scorpius kissed her cheek when she had finished shaking for the final time, pulling the covers over her and curling up around her. He was warm and Rose watched his hand as it ran lovingly over her waist, her hip, her thigh. Soon, it slowed down too, and Scorpius fell asleep still holding her. She didn't realize he was a cuddler. Of course, he would be. She wasn't even surprised. She was definitely not a cuddler but she couldn't pretend it wasn't pleasant. She was more surprised that she didn't hate it.

But now that her brain had caught up to the rest of her body, all that she felt was full-blown panic. She had slept with _Scorpius_. And it was _mind-blowing_. And she didn't _do_ attachment. This was Rose after all. With Scorpius. Attachment wasn't even a part of the equation. Merlin, what had she _done_?

As carefully as she could, Rose wiggled out from under Scorpius's arm, freezing when he grunted in his sleep. When she was positive he wasn't about to wake up, she got all the way out from under him and slid out of the bed. She had left her dress by the front door and she couldn't look at herself in the mirror as she stepped back into it. She was afraid of what she would see. When she finally made it back to her apartment, she caught a glimpse in the mirror of her sex-tousled hair, the hickeys peppering her neck, chest and hips, and the disgustingly over-bright eyes.

 _Never again_.

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 **Author's Note: The prompt at the beginning was from a conversation a friend and I had about online dating. The Scorose plot bunny took over from there and here we are. R &R and make my day :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I was pleasantly surprised by the reception of this story. Originally this was going to be a one-shot, but the plot bunny ran away from me and it's now going to be a four-installment story. So without further adieu, part deux** **.**

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Part II: The Aftermath.

Scorpius did not appreciate waking up alone. Waking up after mind-blowing sex to find the other half of his bed cold was _not_ how he imagined things going with Rose. Last night she smelled like the most intoxicating combination of Firewhiskey, champagne, and peonies and the faintest remnant of her perfume was still on his sheets. He even got up to search his apartment for her, even though he knew she was gone, with the smallest glimmer of hope. She didn't even leave a _note._

He had carried a torch for Rose for _way_ longer than he was comfortable admitting. That untamable auburn hair, icy cerulean eyes, and stubborn chin were enough to catch his attention, but that wasn't what kept it. It wasn't just that she was pretty or smart. She was all those things and he admired everything about her, but he also genuinely _liked_ her.

He had always thought if he hadn't swooped in and stolen her best friend, that Rose could have been his friend too, right from the beginning. He'd never intended to make her feel excluded that way and he didn't even know about it until she'd gotten wasted at a bonfire in the beginning of fifth year and snapped at him. It had never even occurred to him that she felt left out. While she had never gone out of her way to be cruel to him, she'd never completely warmed up to him and now he had his answer why. The next day she didn't even remember, going back to behaving the way she had been toward him: distant, cool, blasé; she was protecting herself.

But after that, he did his best to try to be her friend too. The Houses were encouraged to sit together for meals instead of apart. He made Al invite her over to sit with them. He wanted her to feel included, not replaced. The first few invitations she'd stared at him suspiciously, but she accepted them, nevertheless, and she sat with him and Al at breakfast through the rest of their Hogwarts careers. She dined with her own House at lunch and dinner.

For a long time, he'd had this terrible fear that she didn't like him because his father was a former Death Eater and that was why she disliked him hanging with Al. It was honestly his own insecurity that had fueled that thought, because she had never said one derogatory thing about his family name or his father. After the war, Draco had worked hard to prove he'd changed for the better and Scorpius loved him for that, but he knew better than to expect the rest of the world to.

She was a Slytherin and Housemates with many children of former Death Eaters. Rose had enough sense to know that deriding any of their families would have ostracized her, especially as the daughter of two of the Golden Trio. And Rose thought very linearly in that regard: there was plenty of bad behavior to go around without dragging people's parents into it. If they did something shitty, it wasn't because of their parents.

He learned to get over it because the fact of the Hogwarts social paradigm was simple: If a Weasley could get Sorted into Slytherin and be accepted, a Malfoy in Hufflepuff wasn't that big a deal either. The day they were Sorted was a turning point in history. They were kindred spirits in that way.

Slowly, but surely, her guard dropped and Scorpius got to know the girl behind the aloof exterior. She was whip-smart, with a biting sense of humor. She was _interesting._ The things she said, thought, did were _fascinating_ to him, because they never what he expected, even after nearly a decade of knowing her.

Rose was competitive as hell. She challenged him academically, athletically, and mentally, and he _loved_ it. None of her opinions were black and white, either; they were all nuance and shades of grey. When they argued (they argued about everything), she didn't give up anything without a fight, and it got his blood up just to get that fire in her eyes going. It's what made breakfast his favorite meal.

He paid attention to what she liked at breakfast and made a point to save her favorites when she walked in right when the ten-minute warning bell for class rang. She was a fast eater (she had to be, in such a large family), so she'd scarf it down in five minutes flat, before sending him a quick smile or some thanks and headed off to class with her friends. Sometimes he'd bring her treats in the library, where he knew she'd hole up and study. She was very much Ron Weasley's daughter in that all it took to make her happy in the moment was a full stomach. Giving her free food in Leaky was hardly a departure from his tradition of constantly making sure Rose was fed.

Teasing her as forwardly as he had the previous night might have been a risk, but she had taken the bait when he wasn't sure she would. But that fire that he'd long admired came into her eyes and he couldn't resist escalating it, curious to see how far he could take this.

He knew he hadn't taken advantage of her. She would have shut him down when he'd gone far enough, but she hadn't. She was with him every step of the way. Rose Weasley was not a girl that could be manipulated easily. She did what she wanted. She _took_ what she wanted.

And last night she wanted him. He almost couldn't believe it, but the marks on his own body from her teeth and her nails couldn't be denied. She had taken him to the edge and they had both fallen off together.

So, the question remained, what was he to do about this? He needed an apology. He needed an explanation. He needed another round. He needed _something_. But he had to find her before he figured out what that was.

* * *

The memory of Scorpius's touch was still as raw as Rose's skin when she'd finally taken inventory of all the places she'd allowed him to mark during her shower. She could still feel his scent on her skin…sharp and spicy with just a little bit of sweetness mixed in. As soon as she'd washed every trace of Scorpius off her body and covered up what she couldn't wash off, Rose threw herself into her work.

The Department of Mysteries was one place she could spend forever in. Not just because she was avoiding the rest of her life (read: Scorpius), but because she genuinely loved it. She adored the process of discovering the unknown, bringing it into the light. It required patience, finesse, flexibility and resourcefulness to find all the pieces of the puzzles.

So far, she'd worked on small projects in the Hall of Prophecy, but recently she took on researching Love Magic. Ever since she was young, her mother had told her stories of the war. Every year at Hogwarts was a new set of stories. Hermione Granger-Weasley believed in preparing her children for what the world would say about their family, and knowing what the truth was at the heart of all the gossip and innuendo.

"History was written by the side of the victors, but remembered by the families of the fallen," Hermione always used to say.

Rose took it to heart. She listened with rapt attention, constantly begging for stories from her parents and her uncle. The stories she found most fascinating were of her uncle, how his parents had sacrificed themselves so that he could live. How that love carried over and protected him in the Dursley house. How Ron's love for Hermione had brought him back to her through the Deluminator when he'd walked out on her. How they were able to bring down Voldemort because he had never been loved or loved anyone. How Narcissa Malfoy's love for her only son had led her to defect at the last minute and turn the tide of the war. How it all led back to love.

Love Magic was one of those things that people for generations had tried replicating and mass marketing, but Rose knew genuine love couldn't be distilled into a potion. The giant cauldron of Amortentia in the center of the Love Chamber in the Department of Mysteries was both a distraction and a failed experiment. The Amortentia replicated the feelings of comfort, attraction, and sexual love. But to administer it to a person most often involved deceit. Deceit negated love. It was proved over and over in history.

So, it had to be something else. The combination of magic and love was rare and beautiful. Finding the variable that made it so powerful was what Rose was tasked to find. Consent? Connection? Care? A mix of the three?

Whenever Rose was blocked, she did what she always did: she went back to the Burrow. It was her original inspiration because the place was _filled_ with love. It was home.

Molly kissed her on the cheek when she Apparated into the kitchen. "Rose, dear, I didn't know you were stopping by! Come, I just made tea and scones."

She bustled her granddaughter to sit at the table, as a plate of hot scones came to land in front of her. Arthur was sitting at the table and he smiled as Rose came to kiss him on the cheek in greeting. There was a loud _crash_ from one of the upper landings, prompting Molly to curse under her breath and go and check it out.

Rose blew on her tea as Arthur continued to do the crossword in his paper happily. One of the things she loved about her grandfather was his ability to let her be until she felt like talking.

"Gramps? How did you know Gran was the one?" Rose asked, after a full fifteen minutes in silence.

To his credit, he didn't look surprised or confused about the origin of the question. Arthur just smiled. "Our first Christmas together, she gave me a book on the history of Muggle airplanes."

Rose looked at him blankly. "I am not following."

Arthur chuckled. "It's not exactly a secret that I am fascinated by Muggles. I was happy in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, but it never gave us good money. Molly has at times been impatient about it, frustrated by it. She hasn't ever shared the interest. Even now, I don't think she fully understands my fascination. But the fact that she actually visited a Muggle shop and bought me a book from there was how I knew she was the one. She loved me enough that she accepted my oddities. She made me feel special instead of stupid. It's not a feeling I've ever had with anyone else, including my own children. She knew me," he ended simply. "She loved me."

"How did Gram know you were the one?"

"You'll have to ask her that."

* * *

Taking her grandfather's advice, Rose spent the next week tracking down all the people in her family that were coupled up in long-term relationships and marriages. Asked them when they knew. At what point. If any of them thought it was a strange question, they kept their opinions to themselves. Her questions were pointed and she wanted to compare all their answers to find common threads.

The frustrating thing was that each couple gave different answers. For some, it was just a feeling, for others it was a particular action or gesture, and still others it was something they said. How was anyone to find a commonality with such varying points of data?

Rose decided to take a page out of her grandmother's book and visit a bookshop in Muggle London. Muggles had their own theories about the world. Love shouldn't have been any different. They had an entire section on the subject. Perusing the shelves, Rose quickly decided that all books on catching a man were going to be ignored. Not only were they insulting to women's intelligence, but they were irrelevant to her search.

She ended up purchasing _The Five Love Languages_ , which was by some Muggle brain doctor. She finished it in a night. Words of affirmation, acts of service, gifts, quality time, and physical touch. She'd compared the book to her data, lining up each of her relatives, married and unmarried, with the love language that made most sense.

Her own, for example, was gifts. Every time someone gave her something, her entire spirit lifted because, for her, it showed that they thought of her, they knew her or they just loved her.

Her mind wandered to Scorpius, and she wondered what his love language might be, before her brain was bombarded with flashbacks of their night together. His sharp jawline and high aristocratic cheekbones had been made for the moonlight. She could still see his smile, feel his kisses. His touch was branded on her skin. She'd never been with a lover who had been quite so in tune with what she wanted and who'd loved everything she'd given him in return. An ache set in somewhere deep inside her and she pushed the thought of Scorpius away, moving back to the love languages.

Those were aspects of love, but still not what she was looking for. What was the connection to magic? A disproportionate number of people in her family were happily married. That was not an accident. They chalked it up to feelings. Actions could be quantified. Feelings couldn't.

It had to be something else.

* * *

The next day, Rose stopped by Diagon Alley. Her oldest friend, Clara Avery, worked at George's shop, doing research. Growing up, Clara was one of George's best customers, so it only made sense that after she finished Hogwarts she'd go and work for her favorite joke shop. Not only was she an avid prankster, but she had a keen interest in innovation of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Rose had brought her home to meet her parents one Christmas during sixth year, and she'd played a prank on James and Freddie, impressing her uncle George so much that he'd decided on the spot to hire her as soon as she graduated.

George kissed her cheek when she entered the shop. "Is Clara here?" Rose asked.

"In the back." George got distracted by a boy who was about to knock a crate of Peruvian Instant Darkness powder over and went over to intercept him. Rose made her way to the back of the shop, where George had set up his product lab.

Clara was cursing over a potion that was giving off violet fumes and making her golden hair curl even tighter than it already was. "Bad time?" Rose asked.

Clara jumped and a grin came onto her face. "Not at all. New line for the Skiving Snackboxes. Diarrhea Drops."

Rose's lip curled. "That's disgusting."

"It's effective," Clara defended. "No teacher in the history of the world has ever questioned diarrhea."

She couldn't argue that point, so she didn't. "Up for lunch? My treat," she said instead.

Clara put out the fire under her cauldron and immediately it stopped smoking. "Absolutely." It was not unexpected for Rose to drop by like this, but there was an odd vibe about her today. And then Clara's eyes found the fading hickey when Rose's hair shifted and she gasped, "Rose Weasley, you've been holding out on me! Spill the name of the boy that did that."

"Not here," Rose hissed, rearranging her hair. The last thing she needed was George to find out about this. The man gossiped more than anyone else in the family.

They walked over to Florean's, who now had a full brunch menu along with their famous ice cream menu. Once their waiter had taken the order, Clara couldn't wait anymore. "Okay, Weasley, now spill."

"This is why you suck at chess," Rose remarked. "No patience."

Clara smirked. "Was it Decker?"

Rose sneered. She'd almost forgotten about Decker. "Definitely not. Wanker." She looked around to make sure she couldn't be overheard. "It was Malfoy."

"Are you serious?" Clara practically screeched. "Scorpius?!"

Rose shushed her by throwing her bread roll at her. "For fuck's sake, keep it down, Avery. Yeah. Decker blew me off and so I was at Leaky. One thing led to another…and then I was in his bed."

Clara looked impressed. "How was it? The things I've heard about that boy…" She was practically salivating at the idea.

"It was great. Better than great," Rose confessed.

Clara knew her friend better than this. Her confession wasn't matching up with her unhappy expression. "So, what's the problem?"

Rose covered her face. "The problem is I panicked. I was drunk and he was flirting and being all _Scorpius_ and I don't even know how it happened but we went for _hours_. It was the best night of my life. And then he fell asleep and…I _panicked._ I wasn't thinking straight so I just…left. He probably hates me now."

Clara had known for years that Scorpius had had a thing for Rose. He was the one who constantly sought Rose out. They studied together, argued, and competed all the time. Scorpius was probably the closest thing Rose had had to an equal and he knew it. Even if Clara hadn't technically been Scorpius's third cousin, it had been so painfully obvious. It was Rose that was harder to get a read on, since she played it so close to the vest all the time.

Until now, anyway. If it wasn't apparent from the fact that Rose had just used Scorpius's name as an adjective, Clara had her answer from the guilt was unmistakably plain on Rose's face now.

"Do you love him?" Clara asked quietly.

"I don't know," Rose said softly.

But it was a lie. Of course she did.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Rose had essentially dropped off the face of the earth. Scorpius hadn't seen her coming or going from her apartment. She hadn't come into the Leaky Cauldron since their night together. All his owls returned to him with the letters unopened. He'd tried to ask Al as casually as possible what Rose had been up to.

Al was less than impressed. "I haven't seen her but she's been shutting herself in the Ministry and then she's been running around asking the family all sorts of strange questions about love," he said, displeased. "No one's said anything because Rose has always been a little odd, but she's _recording_ it. Like she's trying to study it or something. She even bought a Muggle book on Love Languages. Whatever the hell that is."

"She _is_ an Unspeakable. She could be studying anything," Scorpius said, trying not to look too pleased with himself. Rose was asking about _love_? Did she love him? Is that why she left? Is that why she was avoiding him?

"Whatever it is, she's being weird, even for her." Al paused. "You don't suppose she met someone, do you?"

Scorpius shrugged, still attempting to be nonchalant. Al would never let him hear the end of it if he knew what had passed between him and Rose. Not to mention, he'd be facing down Rose's wand if he ever breathed a word of it to her well-meaning but meddlesome cousin; it had happened before enough times. "She wouldn't have told me if she did."

Al looked slightly mollified. "That's true, I suppose."

Scorpius quickly changed the subject, but his mind was racing.

* * *

Scorpius didn't know where she stood on the subject, but he'd always known how he felt about Rose. It hadn't just started that night at the Leaky Cauldron. If he could pinpoint the exact moment when he'd had that epiphany, it was after his Career Advice meeting.

Career Advice had been a big deal when they were in fifth year. They were academic equals, but with very different dreams. After a meeting with Flitwick, Scorpius had sought Rose out in her secluded corner of the library. As part of his usual routine, he handed her a packet of crisps he had snuck past Madame Pince.

"How did it go?" she had asked, grinning as she opened the bag and offered him some before she took some for herself.

"Flitwick says I have the aptitude to be a teacher if I finish the teaching credential and maintain my grades."

Privately, Rose had always thought that he was born to be a teacher, always helping the first-years with their Transfiguration homework. He'd been McGonagall's teaching assistant for Transfiguration for the last year. He was less strict than McGonagall for sure, but he was good at explaining things, and he had the patience of a saint.

"So, what's the problem?" she had asked.

"You don't think it's silly?" Scorpius had asked, a vulnerable look in his eyes. He felt exposed. Naked. He'd half expected her to laugh in his face. "A Malfoy's never been a teacher at Hogwarts before."

Rose had rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid, Malfoy, it's a perfect fit for you. What did McGonagall say?" A guilty look had entered his eyes. "You didn't ask?" she had asked incredulously.

"I needed a second opinion," he had said, shrugging self-consciously. "I didn't tell my dad yet that I was planning to apply."

"I don't think he'd have a problem with it, Scorpius," she had said kindly. "You'd be a great teacher. Hogwarts would be lucky to have you."

She'd seen the most vulnerable part of him, and she hadn't laughed. She'd managed to allay all his fears and encourage him in one fell swoop. Scorpius had known at that moment that Rose was the one.

Now, it was just a matter of waiting for her to realize that.

* * *

 **Author's note: R &R and make my day.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I really struggled with this chapter, but I think I'm happy with where it ended up. Brownie points for anyone who catches the** _ **Gilmore Girls**_ **reference (I've been obsessed with that show as of late).** _ **The Five Love Languages**_ **by Gary Chapman is actually quite a fascinating book, and I'd recommend giving it a read if you haven't read it.**

* * *

Part III: Self-Inflicted

When Rose was eleven, the news that she had been Sorted into Slytherin wasn't as much of a surprise to her as it was the rest of her family. Al had essentially abandoned her for his new best friend Scorpius. The rest of her cousins didn't seek her out. She knew they had no idea what to say to her. She had withdrawn into herself. She sat alone at the Slytherin table for the first two weeks of school. She holed up in the library after class until dinner. After dinner, she'd sit in her common room with a book and listen to the sounds of the lake until pure exhaustion took over and forced her to retire to bed.

She didn't send a single letter home; she knew the whispers of her cousins spread across the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables like wildfire would eventually be heard by her family. The Weasleys gossiped like no other family, and so she knew that by the time twenty-four hours had passed, the whole Weasley clan would know that Rose had gotten Sorted into Slytherin. Her mother was the first person to send her a letter, after two weeks of radio silence from Rose.

 _Dear Rose,_

 _I had hoped to hear the news from you yourself, but I understand why you would be hesitant to share it with us. However, Slytherin has gained an amazing student and there are plenty of incredible witches and wizards who came from your House. I have no trouble believing you will grow up to be one of them._

 _With that being said, how are you liking all of your classes? Which is your favorite? Mine was certainly Transfiguration. I imagine Professor McGonagall is still the same as ever. Who do you have for Defense Against the Dark Arts? In my day, they changed every year, so it's comforting to know that you'll have the same one every year, if he or she is competent. Give Neville my love when you see him and tell him he should come for tea on one of his free weekends._

 _Hugo has been climbing the walls with Lily because they're both so excited to go to Hogwarts. I think he feels the loss now that you're gone. He keeps asking when you'll be back and if you'll have any new stories to tell him. The Hogwarts gossip mill is always churning, and I imagine you'll have your fair share of stories when you come back for the holidays._

 _Please do write back soon. Your father and I have been worried about you._

 _All my love,_

 _Mum_

 _P.S. If you would like, I can arrange for you to meet with someone from Slytherin who's graduated over the holidays so you can talk to them. I'm sure you have questions. Maybe you could play chess._

Rose wasn't the weepy type, but for some reason after making it through the letter at dinner, she felt close to tears. A fifth-year girl who had been sitting near her scooted over on the bench and read over her shoulder.

"Sounds to me like your Mum has the right idea," she said decisively. Her blonde curls bobbed as she nodded approvingly.

Rose instinctively folded the letter closed, immediately on the defensive. "What?"

Cassie held her hands up. "Relax, Weasley. We're all family here. If your mum didn't support you, we still would. I'm Cassie Avery."

It was an olive branch. "Rose Weasley," she said quietly, shaking the girl's hand.

Cassie gestured another small blonde girl over. "This is my sister Clara. First-year like you. You should write your mum back though."

"I will," Rose said.

"What's that you're reading?" Clara asked, fascinated. She also had her sister's blonde curls, but her eyes were green in contrast to her sister's brown.

" _Hogwarts: A Revised History_. My mum wrote it," she said, sliding the giant tome down the table so Clara could read the book jacket.

They spent the rest of dinner talking about their favorite books and stories. Clara had a fondness for pranks and Rose had given her a couple of new ideas. Rose, on the other hand, loved Muggle cinema and Clara, who'd grown up in a pureblood family, was mesmerized by the whole concept. After dinner, when Rose had shown her _Home Alone_ on her enchanted laptop, Clara had declared that Rose was her new best friend and that had been the end of that.

Rose wrote her mother back the next morning.

* * *

She ended up taking her mother up on her offer. The first Sunday of the Christmas break, Rose found herself seated across a chessboard with Draco Malfoy in his study at Malfoy Manor. Astoria and Hermione were exchanging book recommendations over tea. Scorpius was at the Potters' house in Godric Hollow, and Rose had only agreed to this on the condition that he never found out about it.

"Where did you learn to play chess?" Draco asked, as Rose made a move. This was where she was comfortable, Hermione had told him beforehand, and so he'd set it up. He could tell Rose was trying not to be unnerved by him; his hairline was starting to recede, but Scorpius was his spitting image, with the pointed chin, platinum blonde hair and grey eyes. It was hard for Rose to separate the two at first.

"My dad taught me," Rose said, with a smile. "My friend Clara wants me to teach her when I come back."

"Clara Avery?" he checked. He moved another pawn.

She nodded, as her pawn beat his to bits. "She's my best friend."

"Nice girl. Her sister's quite talented in Potions, so I've heard."

"Cassie is Slughorn's teaching assistant," Rose confirmed.

"Do you like Slughorn?"

Rose made a face. "He talks too much. And he's obsessed with my parents. It's weird."

Draco chuckled. "He's always been like that. He likes being around fame and notoriety."

"Well, it's annoying," she said flatly.

"Who's your favorite then? Obviously, it's not Slughorn."

"McGonagall," she said decisively.

"Really?"

"She's the only one that doesn't show favoritism by House and she knows what she's talking about. And she knows how to explain it properly. And she's obsessed with Quidditch," Rose added with some satisfaction.

"Do you play?"

She shook her head. "Just at home with my family."

"Well you certainly have enough cousins to start your own Quidditch league," Draco said dryly.

Despite herself, Rose laughed. "Yeah. But I play Beater usually."

Draco raised an eyebrow. Rose was not his typical idea of a Beater; she was reedy and tiny, even for an eleven-year-old. "I played Seeker."

"Did you really buy your way onto the Slytherin team?" she asked, wide-eyed.

Draco scoffed, as his bishop took her knight. "Your father probably told you that, but I did actually have the talent. They wouldn't have kept me on so long if I was rubbish."

"That's true, I suppose," Rose said thoughtfully. Her rook was currently hacking at his bishop in retaliation. "The Slytherin Captain wanted me to go over their strategies with him."

"Why you?"

"Because I told him that he wasn't paying enough attention to Hufflepuff's weaknesses and taking advantage of them. So, he wants me to go over their strategies when the hols are over," she said, shrugging casually. "Your son favors his left side."

Draco had to try really hard to not be impressed, but he was. "I wasn't aware he was trying out for the team."

"Him and Al were practicing after class one day. I saw Freddie running drills with them. He's a fourth year. They'll probably try for next year. McGonagall still won't let any first years try out for the team. She hasn't since Uncle Harry."

"Do you think Scorpius has a shot?" Draco asked, neatly sidestepping the issue of Harry Potter being the exception to every rule. While Draco of twenty years ago might have resented him for it, Draco of today had just let Potter have that one. Besides, Rose was eleven; he didn't expect her to care about his schoolboy grudges.

"Probably. Hufflepuff's Seeker is rubbish," Rose said dismissively. "Proper stupid. He couldn't find a Bludger until it hits him in the stomach. And Scorpius could fly circles around him."

"How is my son faring in Hufflepuff?" he wanted to know. There was a grudging respect in Rose's voice at the mention of his son. He was curious.

She shrugged. "He seems fine to me. I don't really talk to him that much," she said stiffly.

"Why not? I think you two could be friends."

Rose's shoulders hunched up defensively. "I'm pretty sure he has no interest in being my friend, Mr. Malfoy."

"If there's one thing I know about my son, it's that he wants to be _everyone_ 's friend," Draco said dryly. "It's probably why he went to Hufflepuff and not Slytherin."

Rose looked at the older Malfoy curiously. "How did you react when you found out Scorpius was Sorted into Hufflepuff?"

Rose was fidgeting and not meeting his eyes. He could tell this was a sensitive subject for her, so he had to tread carefully. "Well, I was surprised at first, but it made sense. He's the first Malfoy to ever be Sorted into Hufflepuff, but…well you've met my boy," he said almost ruefully. "He was born without that ruthless streak of mine and his mother's. He wouldn't be happy in Slytherin. I wrote to him and told him it was fine, and try to be the best Hufflepuff he could be."

"My dad hasn't written me at all," Rose said quietly. "He's away on assignment but he hasn't written me at all. I think he's angry."

And that was the root of why Hermione had brought Rose here. She was a bright young sprout, but she was also a scared little girl and he recognized that fear of her father's disapproval immediately. Despite their animosity over the years, Draco had to concede that Ron Weasley was not Lucius Malfoy. He doubted that Ron would hold it against her. The Sorting Hat was not to be denied, and Draco could tell within moments of meeting this girl that she _belonged_ in Slytherin.

"I think once your father gets over the initial surprise, he'll see it's for the best, Rose," Draco said reassuringly. "It's where you belong."

"I hope so." Rose moved her queen and squealed happily as Draco's king fell. "Checkmate."

Draco jumped. " _How_?" He'd been so focused on reassuring her that she'd pulled the wool over his eyes! "I want a rematch," he burst out.

Rose giggled, and from the other side of the room, Astoria and Hermione were not bothering to hide their mirth. "I should have warned you, Draco. My Rose is a chess prodigy," Hermione said proudly.

Draco was still unable to believe that he'd been so blindsided by an eleven-year-old girl. "I think it's time for lunch," Astoria decided. "Come along, Rose, dear, tell me what your favorites are. Draco, stop moping and come help."

That tone brokered no argument. Draco stood up and held a hand out to Rose, who was still seated in the armchair, bubbly from her victory. "Doing what my wife says is in my best interest," he said in a low voice to her. She smiled unsurely, took his hand and let him help her out of her seat. "We can have our rematch next week."

Rose smiled. "I'd like that."

And so, a new, and unlikely, friendship had been forged.

* * *

Scorpius considered himself a patient man. Hufflepuffs were known for loyalty, but patience and hard work is how they got ahead. Rose Weasley had been stretching his patience thin for the last two weeks (read: their whole lives), however, and she didn't even know it. She was still avoiding him, still shutting herself in the Ministry, engrossed in what was apparently research.

He should have known better than to ask Al. Rose and Al hadn't been close like that in years. Al liked to meddle and it had only gotten worse with age; Scorpius had made a no-meddling rule with Al when it came to his own dates, but Rose hadn't been so lucky. She allowed Al to set her up on one date before she banned him from ever discussing her love life or lack thereof. Scorpius could see how a private person like Rose would be embarrassed and frustrated by the entire experience.

Al had now gotten it in his head that Rose had been single too long and that now she needed to date. Scorpius had thought it was why Rose had gone on all of those dead-end dates in the first place, just to shut him up. After she struck out the first three dates, she stopped telling him about her dates at all.

Al's nonstop complaining that Rose was working too much had annoyed her so much that she threatened to hex him the next time he brought it up. The man was _obsessed_. She was tired of hearing it. Scorpius couldn't even blame her. _He_ was tired of hearing it.

She sure as hell wasn't going to tell Al about her night with Scorpius. If Al didn't murdered Scorpius for it, he would meddle, which would inevitably lead to Scorpius getting murdered by Rose for telling in the first place. The end result would be the same. He started picking up the afternoon shift at Leaky so he could study at night, keep his mind off of the elusive redhead, and avoid her meddlesome cousin during the day.

When Clara Avery walked in during the afternoon lull at Leaky and sat in his section, Scorpius almost didn't know how to act. Clara was George Weasley's research assistant, but more than that, she was Rose's best friend.

"What can I get you?" Scorpius asked, after they exchanged a surprisingly cordial greeting.

"Chicken pot pie, lemon meringue and a gillywater."

"Coming right up."

Clara grinned approvingly when it was brought out. "That was fast."

"I live to serve," Scorpius said dryly. He liked Clara. She was a little eccentric, with the rebellious pink streak in her curly blonde hair, but as far as he could see, she was a standup bird, if a tad devious.

"Come sit with me," she invited. From the knowing look she gave him, he was almost dead certain she knew, and he had to call upon every bit of his upbringing not to fidget under her steely gaze.

Scorpius hesitated, since he was still technically on the clock. Clara made an impatient sort of noise.

"No one else is here, Malfoy. Relax. Take a load off."

He sat, not really having a good reason to argue otherwise. "Tell me if someone comes in."

Clara grinned her acquiescence. "Tuck in," she said, sliding some of her pie toward him. "And tell me all about how you managed to convince Rose to get in bed with you."

Scorpius sat back, a slight pink tinge in his cheeks. "I didn't think she'd admit it," he said in a low voice, almost impressed. Up until now, based on Al's nonstop complaints, Scorpius had assumed Rose was just in flat-out denial of what had happened between them.

Clara adopted a superior tone of voice. "If she was going to admit it to anyone, it would have been to me. If only to tell me how much of a wanker Decker was."

"He really was a wanker," he murmured, if only to avoid the question more than anything.

"Of course he was. But sometimes a girl just needs a tune-up," Clara said, supremely unconcerned by this.

"Is that what she called it?" Scorpius asked distractedly. Rose had certainly behaved like a lover possessed. _Starved_. Scorpius's mind went to X-rated playback of their night together. There was no question that Rose had enjoyed herself. The question was did she want it to happen again?

Clara shrugged casually. "Of course not. That's what I called it. Sounds like you gave her that and more." She gave him a calculating stare. "She's not one of your usual birds."

"I know," Scorpius said quietly. "They were never serious."

"Rose doesn't see it that way. What did you see in them anyway?"

"I liked them," was Scorpius's simple answer.

"But it wasn't enough," Clara guessed shrewdly.

He shrugged self-consciously. When he had told Rose that she needed someone who intrigued her, it wasn't some rubbish he was spouting just to get her in bed with him; he had spoken from personal experience. There had always been something missing from his previous relationships. He'd genuinely liked them, felt for them, even had chemistry with some of them. But he became disinterested just as quickly as he fell for them.

He was an energetic person. He knew he could be a handful. But girls changed after he got into relationships with them. They stopped _trying_ to intrigue him. He liked learning new things from the girls he dated, and when they turned passive or nonresponsive to his dissent or his curiosity, it was nothing short of disappointing.

The chemistry they shared before he entered relationships with them fizzled out quickly once the girls stopped putting in the effort. They didn't spend as much time exploring together, didn't go on new adventures together, didn't learn new things together. Sometimes he played devil's advocate just to test them. Every once in a while, they'd get into a huge blowout, but for the most part, they stopped _responding_. They _let_ him win debates, _let_ him be right when he knew he was wrong.

Rose never let him win anything on principle. Sometimes she argued just for the sake of disagreeing. He learned so much from her just by being contrary. Breakfast was _his_ time with Rose, where he got to fire her up, learn something new, and make her smile. It wasn't until he'd graduated Hogwarts and no longer was having his daily breakfast battle that he realized what was missing was the consistency. His mind needed exercise as much as his body to stay razor sharp.

"We explored what we had until it wasn't new anymore," Scorpius said evasively. He was not the type to malign his exes, either publicly or privately. "We all parted amicably."

Clara wrinkled her nose at the word _amicably._ "I wonder what that would be like." She'd never had an amicable breakup in her life. All of hers had been loud, public, and hostile, involving everything from Howlers to curses (mailed and in person).

Scorpius chuckled, having been party to a few of them. "Some of them come in here with their husbands every now and again. Leave very nice tips."

"You're such a Hufflepuff," Clara teased, shaking her head. "You know she's scared."

"I won't hurt her," he said earnestly.

"Rose doesn't know that and you can't promise that. Why is she any different?"

"You know why." Scorpius wasn't going to say it. He was blushing. He wondered how he had gotten himself into this situation. Giving Clara Avery ammunition to grill him for sleeping with her best friend had definitely not been on his agenda for today.

Clara pushed regardless, "Is it the chase? The challenge?"

"I don't need to sleep with Rose to get that from her," Scorpius defended, despite himself.

"That's true, I suppose," she mused thoughtfully, sitting back. "You're the only one who's ever been able to keep up with her."

It was as good as an approval from her. Scorpius asked, "So, what should I do then?"

Clara raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you want to do?"

* * *

Rose was at the Burrow again. Three times in one week, and Al finally had had enough. "What is going on with you?" he demanded.

Rose was annotating a copy of her mother's memoir about the war, looking for instances of possible uses of love magic. It was a long book, filled with stories with a lot of little nuances, and Rose was going over it with a fine-toothed comb. "Be more specific, Al," she said irritably. She didn't appreciate being interrupted.

"Look at you! You're at the Burrow all the time, you don't go home! When's the last time you slept?"

Though she had been working a lot more and sleeping a lot less, Rose scoffed anyway. "I'm fine, Al. I've been busy with my research. And no, before you ask, I can't tell you what it is."

Al pushed, "Come off it, Rose, you've even got Scorpius worried. Not to mention the rest of the family thinks you've gone 'round the bend."

Rose felt a flutter in her stomach the mention at Scorpius's name. "If the rest of the family wants to say something about it to me, they can," she said coolly. "And I'll thank you not to talk about me to Scorpius."

Al gave her a strange look. "Did you two have a fight?"

"No, I just don't want you discussing whether or not I've lost my mind with Scorpius, when I've told you, I'm doing research," she snapped. "For once in your life, stay out of it, Al."

Al huffed. "Fine. Sorry for caring." He stormed off.

Rose massaged the bridge of her nose, annoyed. Al would come around. He was all hot air; he'd get angry and then get over it. Her concentration was totally shot now and she threw her quill on the ground, frustrated.

A plate of chocolate gateau was placed down in front of her as her father pressed a kiss to her hair and took a seat next to her. She looked up at him. "What's this for?"

Ron shrugged. "You looked like you needed cake. Violent quill-tossing indicates the need for cake."

"What if I had thrown the book?"

"I'd have brought you an entire meal." She raised an eyebrow. "I don't make the rules, I just carry them out."

Rose smiled despite herself and took a bite. "So good," she said with her mouth full.

"You know, now I'm starting to see why your mother used to scold me at meals for talking with my mouth full," Ron commented.

Rose, at the prime of her maturity, stuck her tongue out, still with cake in her mouth.

Ron chuckled. "Fancy a game?"

She nodded. "Might as well. I'm not getting anything more out of that book today," she said ruefully as he set up the board.

Chess was the great equalizer in the Weasley household. While they were growing up, Ron Weasley had taught both his children to play chess. Hugo learned the rules, but had no interest in practicing. Hermione was now semi-decent at it, but she still couldn't beat Ron, who was still the best strategist in the Auror office; she used his skill for running campaigns of social causes she championed.

Rose, on the other hand, had taken to it like a fish to water and played with Ron every chance she got, striving to be as good as her dad. Sometimes she cheated, and sometimes she didn't, but she was the only one who played against Ron regularly, so he let her get away with it. It was their game.

When Rose had been Sorted into Slytherin, she'd spent four months silently agonizing about how to face her dad over the Christmas holidays, after ten years of hearing him go on about how Gryffindor was the best House out of the four. She played chess with every single person in her House. They were her new family at Hogwarts, after all. They needed to learn her game. The ones who didn't know, she taught. When she came home, Ron had kissed her cheek and sat her across a chessboard. She'd royally trounced him that day (without cheating), and after that, Ron had accepted that his baby girl was a Slytherin.

"Have you made any progress on whatever it was you were researching?" Ron asked, as he made the first move. Rose always liked to play black.

Rose shrugged. "I'm still gathering data." She moved a pawn. "I was hoping Mum's book could give me some insights."

"On what?" Ron made his next move.

Rose scrutinized the board, before deciding on which piece to move. "How love played into the decisions all of you made during the war."

Ron had learned by now that Rose wasn't going to tell him anything she didn't want him to know. Even if he wanted to know what the root of her fixation for love and war was, he knew better than to ask. "I'd like to think that it was the root of all the major decisions we made…good and bad. We did the wrong things for the right reasons and the right things for the wrong reasons."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," she quoted. "Mum kissed you before the Battle of Hogwarts. How did she know that was the right time?"

Ron chuckled, having told this story a million times before. "I wanted to warn the house elves to get the bloody hell out. For me, it wasn't a big thing, because I just didn't want them to get killed needlessly, but since I'd spent the better part of two years making fun of her for wanting to free them…I think she appreciated that I had been listening."

"Acts of service," Rose murmured, confirming her idea. "What about you?" she asked, mumbling for her bishop to take out one of her dad's rooks.

Ron swore a little under his breath as the bishop bashed his rook to pieces. "Me?"

"When did you know it was Mum?"

"I won't lie and say I always knew," Ron said quietly, as his knight took her bishop. "I was an idiot. Still am sometimes. She'd always been there…I'd gotten used to having her there to encourage me, check my homework, correct me. I took it for granted for a very long time. I just needed her to tell me I was enough. And she did, when she realized that's what I needed to hear. But I think it might have been in sixth year after I got poisoned. We'd been fighting all year and then when I got poisoned…All I wanted was her to be there to tell me it would be okay. Even if I had a girlfriend at the time. I just wanted her. Even if I knew she'd yell at me."

 _Words of affirmation_ , Rose thought, mentally taking note.

"I wish all men thought like you," Rose said bitterly. Her pawn moved to take one of his.

"To be fair, it took me seven years to figure that out, Rosie."

She shrugged though, unwilling to concede that point. Her parents' marriage was what she ultimately wanted. No matter how much they argued, Ron was Hermione's best friend at the end of the day. She wanted that.

Her mind wandered to Scorpius again. It had been doing that a lot lately, when her mind was in a lull. She missed him, plain and simple. They used to argue like her parents every morning at breakfast, which she liked because he gave her another perspective to tackle problems from. Scorpius was a great sounding board for her to bounce ideas off of when she was blocked. Always a thoughtful person, he tended to give her solutions that were both logical and practical.

He was a great listener. When they had had their Career Advice meetings, he was the first person she told when she decided to apply to the Department of Mysteries. By that point, she trusted him to tell her if she was stupid for even bothering to apply. It was a competitive program, not to mention an unconventional career choice. Kind but honest, he was the one to encourage her to go for it. He'd even helped her with her application.

He was the first person she told when she found out her application had been accepted by the Department of Mysteries. He didn't know, but for her that was _major_. That was the moment when she knew he was special. She didn't tell her parents or Clara until two weeks after she got into the program that she'd even applied.

And then she went and slept with him, and ruined it. Her problems were self-inflicted. She did this to herself.

* * *

 **Author's Note: R &R and make my day.**


	4. Chapter 4

Part IV: Checkmate.

"Son, if you don't stop tapping that quill, I'm going to break it," Draco said curtly, pulling the quill out of Scorpius's hand a week later.

"Sorry," Scorpius said hastily.

He went back to trying to study for his teaching credential written exam. As soon as he passed the exam, McGonagall had told him the job was as good as his. His concentration was totally fried though. His mind had been whirring for days after his conversation with Clara, rife with indecision. He knew she was scared; Clara said as much. Rose hated vulnerability, she always had. She was still avoiding him, but the way Al told it, she was making some breakthrough in her research.

Either way, he was now genuinely panicking about whether he'd gravely misread the situation with Rose. But was she really that angry with him? Was she embarrassed about what happened between them? Worse of all, did he _hurt_ her? The idea of hurting Rose, deliberately or not, tormented him. That was the absolute last thing Scorpius wanted.

"Knut for your thoughts," Draco said after a while. His gentle-natured son was normally so laidback and easygoing that the incessant quill-tapping meant something was weighing heavily on his mind.

Scorpius hesitated, not knowing how to start. Rose was very much at the forefront of his mind, but he didn't know how his father would react to that news. He wasn't displeased when he invited Al over for Christmas dinner in first year so much as he was shocked that Harry Potter had allowed it. But he had a different relationship with Ron Weasley and old grudges died hard.

Draco narrowed his eyes at his only son squirming like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "This is about a girl," he guessed. Draco was willing to bet money he knew which girl.

A pink flush started high in Scorpius's cheekbones. Not the best liar to begin with and knowing his father lied his arse off as a sport (so he could spot the lie from a mile away), Scorpius admitted, "She's avoiding me."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Did you do something to make her avoid you?"

The flush burned a little brighter and Scorpius said nothing, averting his eyes instead. Scorpius was really only confirming it for Draco. His son was an open book.

"I see. Well, were you guys safe?"

"Merlin, Dad," Scorpius yelped. "Stop."

Draco laughed. "I have to ask. If you are going to become a father, my mother and yoursare both going to ask me why you haven't made an honest woman out of her yet. And what answer will I give them?"

Scorpius covered his head with his hands. "Please kill me."

"Sex is perfectly healthy, son, don't be such a prude," Draco said, with way too much relish. It was too easy to tease him.

"I used protection," Scorpius practically yelled.

Astoria walked in at precisely that moment. "With _who_?" she asked excitedly. "What does she look like?"

Scorpius glared at his father. "See what you did?"

Draco smirked. "No one asked you to shout, son."

Scorpius made an inaudible sound from under his fingers, completely mortified by this conversation.

"So, who is it?" Astoria asked.

Draco was still watching his son closely. "He hasn't told yet but it's probably that Weasley girl."

Scorpius yelped again. "Dad!"

"Which one? There's a million of them," Astoria said, ignoring her son's reaction. By now, she was used it.

"Rose," Draco answered, and Scorpius's blush went from pink to red.

"Oh, she's such a lovely girl."

"Probably the smartest one from the whole Weasley lot," Draco said, with some satisfaction.

"How do you know that?" Scorpius asked despite himself.

"She and I play chess here on Sundays when she's free," Draco said casually. "She's one of the best minds I've ever gone up against. She could even beat you."

There was clearly no loyalty in this family. Scorpius gaped at him. Rose Weasley played chess with his _father_?

"How did I not know about this?"

Draco shrugged. "You weren't paying attention?"

Scorpius's brain, however, had stopped at the idea of Rose Weasley _here_ in Malfoy Manor. "Since _when_ has this been going on?"

Draco shrugged. "Maybe since your first year?" At the look on his son's face, he added, "Don't look like that. Her mother asked me to."

That made even less sense. "I don't understand," he said finally.

"The week after your Sorting, I got an owl from Hermione Weasley asking me to talk to Rose over the Christmas hols. She's the only Weasley to ever go to Slytherin and I think when her cousin and you got Sorted into the same House without her, her mother was worried that she may have had reservations about it or trouble fitting in. Weasel Sr. certainly wasn't happy about it, but he came around eventually."

"But why ask _you_?"

"I was a Slytherin, was I not?"

"No but…she could have asked anyone."

"It's comforting to know my son has such faith in me," Draco said dryly.

Scorpius immediately felt bad. He knew how the question sounded. "I didn't mean it like that."

Draco chose to ignore this. "But to answer your question, I am probably one of the few Slytherins she felt comfortable enough asking for such a favor. And I owed her," Draco admitted begrudgingly.

Astoria added, "But Rose turned out to be a lovely girl so we just kept inviting her back."

"Why didn't you ever _tell_ me?" He wasn't sure where the sense of betrayal was coming from. Logically, he knew that, had he asked, his father would have told him. But he still had to know.

Draco raised his eyebrow at him again. "Would it have mattered?"

"I still would have wanted to know."

Draco shook his head. "Her one condition to come here and talk to me was that you couldn't find out about it."

" _Why_?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps she was embarrassed. I don't really know. Honestly, I don't think anyone but her parents knew about it. She's not the type to announce her weekend plans in the _Daily Prophet_. Especially not if it's to play chess with a former Death Eater," Draco said mirthlessly.

He wasn't wrong, and so Scorpius wired his own mouth shut before he could put his foot farther in his mouth than he already had today, trying to get his mind around it. He decided he'd be relieved that Draco approved of Rose, rather than annoyed that neither of them saw fit to tell him. Rose had more layers than an onion. He shouldn't have even been surprised. "When is the last time you guys played chess?" he asked instead.

Draco scratched his chin and thought about it. "Oh, it's been a few weeks now. She owled and told me she was making headway on some project at work. Unspeakables never tell you anything," he grumbled.

"That's been the general consensus," Scorpius said unhappily. He'd almost accepted that Rose was probably going to avoid him for the rest of forever.

Draco looked at Astoria, and Astoria made some excuse about meeting Narcissa for tea, leaving as quickly as she came in. "Moping isn't going to get her back, son."

"I don't know what to _do_ ," Scorpius said, frustrated. "She won't return any of my owls, and I haven't seen her in _weeks_."

"So, go find her," Draco said. "And fix it yourself."

Draco Malfoy was a simple man. If there was an obstacle to what he wanted, he just moved the obstacle. His son loved this girl. Unless he was very wrong, she loved him in return. If she was avoiding him, he needed to go after her and prove it to her.

Scorpius wondered if it could be that simple. Up until now, he had been trying to wait Rose out, respect her space, let her think, but it was a futile exercise. Rose kept busy when she was upset so she wouldn't have to spend time dwelling on it. He'd known that since they were eleven. But he _needed_ her to dwell on this, even if she was upset. He needed to know what she was thinking, what upset her, what went wrong, and most importantly, how he could fix it.

Draco had one more surprise up his sleeve. He produced an ancient black velvet ring box from a drawer in his desk. It was the engagement ring Draco had used to propose to Astoria, a Malfoy heirloom. "If groveling her doesn't convince her, this should," he said with way too much satisfaction as he pressed the box into his astonished son's hand. "If my son wasn't born to be a Slytherin, it's fitting that my future daughter-in-law is, don't you think?"

It was just like a Slytherin to think that way, but Scorpius thought he needed to think like a Slytherin would just now. Rose was a strategist at her core, after all. This move was the ultimate checkmate, crazy enough that Scorpius thought it might work.

"Scorpius, stop overthinking this," Draco said impatiently, when Scorpius still hadn't said anything. Draco shoved him toward the fireplace and slapped the chalice of Floo powder in his hand. "Just go find her and snog an explanation out of her. Trust me, it worked with your mother."

Scorpius let out a squeak that made Draco equal parts ashamed and amused. Images of his parents snogging was _not_ the thought he wanted in his head when he was trying to win Rose back. "I'm leaving," Scorpius said decidedly.

"After you're finished snogging her, tell her I want a rematch!" Draco called, as Scorpius stepped into the fireplace.

Draco was satisfied at the look of abject disgust on his son's face as Scorpius Floo'd directly into Rose's apartment.

* * *

Meanwhile, Rose's mind was still a thousand miles away, on Love Magic. She'd spent the last three weeks collating all her data on love marriages and love potions to find common variables, and she could feel herself getting close. Rose was sitting on the hearth of the fireplace in her apartment, bent over a tome on love potions, when suddenly her fire turned green and her one-night stand materialized in front of her. She yelped as she got to her feet and stumbled back so Scorpius could step out of the fireplace.

"What the _bloody_ hell are you doing here?" Rose demanded, clearing away all her books and notes so he wouldn't see or step on them. She was very conscious of the fact that she had dark bags under her eyes and ink stains on her hands. She hadn't done her hair and her clothes were wrinkled from hours of sitting on the hearth. Scorpius, on the other hand, looked impeccable as always. He was clean shaven, his clothes pressed.

He had an unusually serious look on his face. "We need to talk."

"How did you get in here?" she asked, ignoring his statement. She was frazzled that Scorpius was even here at all. He'd been letting her avoid him for so long, she almost thought she could get away with it. Almost. She should have known that whatever she thought Scorpius Malfoy would do, he did the exact opposite.

"I was at my dad's place," he said simply.

That figured. Draco's study in Malfoy Manor also was one of the few places to have Floo access to her apartment, aside from her parents' house, the Burrow, Shell Cottage, Godric's Hollow, and Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Though he'd always given her freedom, Ron had been excessive with the security measures when she'd moved out. He'd made the exception for the Malfoys, knowing of their long-standing Sunday chess match. Draco probably was the one to persuade Scorpius to come here in the first place, she thought ruefully.

He repeated, "We need to talk."

"I'm busy."

At this point, she would have made any excuse to avoid this conversation. She didn't want to hear Scorpius try to justify why he didn't want anything real with her, why he just wanted something casual, something with no strings, no commitment. In other words, excuses that she'd heard a thousand times before from men who were far beneath him. was one thing to hear it from wankers like Bradley Decker (who'd sent a short letter two weeks ago penned with those same tired phrases). Hearing it from Scorpius, who she liked, respected, and cared for would destroy her.

"Yeah, so I've heard," Scorpius said, shaking his head. "You haven't answered any of my owls."

Rose looked at him blankly. "What owls?"

"You're joking," Scorpius said, in disbelief.

"I didn't get any owls," Rose protested with injured innocence. "I've been sleeping at the Ministry the last few weeks because of my project. I only came home to get my books."

Well that explained that, Scorpius thought, relieved without really knowing why. Department of Mysteries didn't allow any communication in or out of the research facilities unless they were interdepartmental memos. "It's better to do this in person anyway," Scorpius said levelly instead.

"Do what?"

Scorpius took her hands and Rose looked up at him, not expecting him to step so close to her. "I didn't like waking up without you."

Rose averted her eyes. "It was a mistake."

"It didn't feel like that at the time."

"It felt like that after."

"Not to me."

That only made Scorpius angry. "Why? It was great."

"It didn't mean anything, that's why," she spat bitterly. Cut it off before it has a chance to cut you. That was her thinking. She'd been vulnerable in front of Scorpius enough for one lifetime.

Scorpius recoiled like she'd slapped him. "How can you say that? Of _course_ it meant something!"

"Did it?" Rose asked, but the question wasn't scornful. Scorpius couldn't put his finger on what the inflection in her voice was, but it sounded almost wistful.

"Oh, come on, Rose! I made every excuse to spend time with you. When I figured out that food made you happy, that's what I started bringing so you'd smile at me. I thought that you might have given me a chance if you saw me as a friend instead of just competition. I was crazy jealous of all those guys you went on dates with because they never could keep up with you. I knew I could though, and I thought eventually you'd see it."

Rose's startled eyes met his. Her brain had grinded to a painful halt as she tried to process this.

"What?" was her very eloquent response. She was still gaping at him.

"I just want to be with you," Scorpius admitted quietly. "It can't be that much of a surprise."

"You never _said_ anything!" she accused, once her brain started stringing together coherent sentences. He couldn't put that on her! She was not a mind-reader! He never asked her out, or made a move.

"I didn't think I had to! I thought it was obvious," Scorpius snapped. "How many other women did I do that for?"

"I don't know," Rose said in a small voice. She'd always assumed he was being nice to her for Al's sake not her own. And because he was a bloody Hufflepuff who was nice to everyone. She had had no reason to think she was special. "It wasn't obvious though."

Scorpius shrugged haplessly, but his voice softened. "I love you. I've always loved you. I didn't think I had to say it. For me, love is an action. It's a verb. I did everything I could to _show_ you I loved you."

It was like a lightbulb had gone on in her head. "Love is an action," she repeated. "Hang on one second." She pulled up her notes with her family's data on it and she skimmed through it. "That's it. You're a genius."

"What's it?" Scorpius said, genuinely lost. He'd just poured his heart out to this girl and she was _reading_.

"The missing piece," she said delightedly, scribbling on the parchment. "I've been looking for it. Love is an _action_. That's why it works!"

"We're having two different conversations here," Scorpius said, watching her cautiously.

"Love magic," she confided. "I've been studying it."

"That's why you were asking about everyone's marriages," Scorpius realized, almost crestfallen. _She hadn't been asking because she loved him_.

"Yes. Trying to find commonalities. Why it worked when my uncle's parents sacrificed themselves for him and why it worked when your grandma saved my uncle so she could save your dad. It wasn't just that Gran bought Gramps a book on airplanes."

"You lost me again, Rose."

She waved a hand impatiently. "Never mind. My gran is all about the words of affirmation. Your grandma is more about acts of service. Aunt Fleur was physical touch. Mine was gifts. And you're quality time," she realized.

"You're using that love language book on me, aren't you?" Scorpius guessed.

Rose was way too excited. "Don't you see, Scorpius? Emotions can potentiate spells, but spell casters are only as good as their execution. It didn't matter what the love language was! Love languages are the _technique_ in love magic. The magic itself worked because love is an _action._ The foundation of every sacrifice, every spell, was based in the _action_ of love not the feeling!"

Scorpius was still lost, but he waited, watching her work through it. "Okay…"

Rose put the parchment down and looked up at him, her eyes burning with a fire that he'd only seen when she'd found out her application to the Unspeakables had been accepted. "Did you mean it?" she asked seriously. "That you love me?"

"I've always meant it," he said quietly.

If she turned him away now, he thought he'd shatter. He wasn't strong enough to take her rejection twice in one month. He always brought her food as gifts, but this time, he put everything on the line. As his last-ditch attempt to show her he meant it, he pulled the ring from his pocket and offered it up for her to see he was dead serious. It was a diamond-and-emerald-encrusted beauty, with a tiny Malfoy crest engraved the underside of the silver band. The ring was exactly to Rose's taste, not to mention worth a fortune. If this didn't work, nothing would.

Rose searched his eyes, and then nodded, letting him slide the ring onto her left hand. This man knew and accepted everything about her. She took two steps and framed his face with her hands, giving him a kiss, more tender than any of the kisses they'd ever shared. She put everything she had into that one kiss, hoping he'd understand. She felt him smile against her lips. She pulled back and met his eyes, the fire in her eyes burning even hotter. She bit her lip. "I love you too."

The dam broke. Elated, Scorpius's hands came up around her wrists and pulled her closer with another kiss. When they split apart, breathless, he said with a sheepish grin, "Good, because my dad wanted me to tell you he wants a rematch and I would have felt really bad telling him no."

Rose snickered. "Tell him I'll hand him his arse after I'm done taking advantage of his son."

She was about to kiss him again but Scorpius was the one to pull back and he couldn't help but chuckle at the irritated look on Rose's face.

"What now?"

"If I don't ask now, I'll never get my answer about why I didn't know the love of my life plays chess with my _father_."

Rose raised her eyebrows, trying to fight the blush coming on. "I'm the love of your life?"

"Don't distract me," Scorpius said stubbornly. "How come you never told me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because then you'd be weird about it. Like right now. I'm trying to have sex and you're talking about your dad. Talk about issues. He gave me advice. That's it."

"I had to know. Just so we're clear, you'll marry me?" he checked.

"I'm wearing the ring, aren't I?" Scorpius gave her a look. He needed to hear her say it. He wasn't going to give her any room for ambiguity or assumptions. "Yes, okay, I'll marry you. _Now_ can we have sex?" Rose asked impatiently, trying to kiss him again. If he didn't touch her _now,_ she was going to explode.

"We need to work on your romantic side," Scorpius said, shaking his head, but he pulled her to him nonetheless.

"You're the love of my life, too," she said sincerely.

Scorpius beamed. "That's much better."

"Now strip, Malfoy," she demanded.

Scorpius grinned, kissed her, and did her bidding happily.

* * *

A month later, Rose had gotten her thesis on the basis of Love Magic published in _Transfiguration Today,_ catapulting her to the top of her career _._ When Rose had received the owl informing her that her paper had been selected for publication, she'd almost torn the letter in her haste to open it and read the news.

Her father had proudly framed a copy in his office for all the Aurors to see, and then sent a framed copy to all their family members. Ron was so elated for her that he didn't even lose his temper when Rose kissed Scorpius in their kitchen at the news, effectively announcing their engagement in front of the whole family.

Up until this point, they'd kept their new relationship status relatively a secret, exploring each other as a new couple. Only Clara, Draco, and Astoria knew. Clara, because she had noticed Rose working less (and more hickeys peppering her skin), and the Malfoys because Scorpius had returned to his normally sunny (annoying, in Draco's words) disposition after weeks of sulking around Malfoy Manor.

The secrecy just added another dimension to the situation. Scorpius of five years earlier would have wanted to take an ad out in the _Daily Prophet_ and announce that out of all the eligible bachelors in the world, Rose Weasley had chosen to make an honest man out of _him._ But Scorpius of today was very much a disciple of the church of what is happening now. Al was still as nosey as ever, but now Scorpius had the entire Weasley clan to contend with. He just wanted to enjoy the honeymoon phase with Rose before the rest of her family got involved.

Rose, for her part, had made a concerted effort to be more mindful of the time. She now tried to leave the Ministry at a reasonable time so she could make it to dinner. It wasn't always at the same time but Scorpius always smiled that happy grin of his that made her insides turn to embarrassing mush whenever she walked through the door. She would sit at her now-reserved seat at the bar and do paperwork there until his shift ended. On the days that weren't busy, Rose would quiz him for his teaching credential and Scorpius would help her fine-tune her defense for her thesis. On the days that were super busy, she'd come in, eat, and then meet him at home when he was off shift.

Knowing Rose's workaholic tendencies, Scorpius had ensured a meal was ready for her during her lunch and dinner hours. Scorpius had also made her promise, quite early on, that if she was panicked or angry with him, that she wouldn't bury herself in her work again and actually talk to him. He was a man who learned from his mistakes.

"What if I don't know what to say?" she'd asked. The words didn't always come as easily to her as they did to him.

"I love you," he had said with a carefree shrug. "I'm willing to work it out with you. And if we can't work it out vertically, we can work it out horizontally."

Rose had shoved him and laughed. "Okay, deal."

When Rose kissed him in front of the whole family, he knew there was no going back. He needn't have worried though; Ron was more irritated that he lost the pool with Harry, Clara and George of when they'd get together than anything. The boy had been in love with her for so long that Ron honestly thought Rose was more likely to hurt him than vice versa. He just chuffed Scorpius on his shoulder and gave the boy a semi-threatening blessing, knowing full well that if he hurt her, Rose could come up with far more creative retribution than he ever could.

When he finished saying his piece, the Weasleys brought out the Firewhiskey.

* * *

After celebrating with her family, Rose agreed to face off with Draco over a chessboard in his study the following Sunday. Scorpius had finished the last of his coursework for his teaching credential and sent all the paperwork to McGonagall. All that was left was the final exam, which he'd taken three days prior. He was pacing the study, waiting for his exam results.

"Scorpius, for fuck's sake, sit down. The owl is not going to fly any faster to get here with your results," Rose said impatiently.

"Keep pacing, son. If you continue to break her concentration, I'll win this game," Draco said reassuringly as his bishop hacked her knight to death.

A tawny blur whizzed by his ear and dropped a letter in Scorpius's hands. Scorpius froze, his hands shaking.

Still impatient as ever, Rose stood up, snatching the letter out of his hand to rip it open and scan it herself. She grinned.

"Professor Malfoy really does have a nice ring to it," she said coyly.

Scorpius let out a shout of joy, picked her up and spun her around, kissing her fervently. "I really got in?"

"Did you have any doubt?" Draco asked arrogantly as he made his next move on the chessboard. He had gotten very good at ignoring Scorpius's public displays of affection with his new fiancé.

Rose kissed Scorpius's cheek, pranced back over to the board, moved a piece. "Checkmate, old man."

Draco huffed. "I should have never set you two up."

 _Fin._

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, there you have it, folks. Please review and tell me what you guys thought.**


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